by Len Webster
He gave her an honest—yet concerned—smile before he stood up and returned to his position behind the bar.
Peyton listened until Jay’s familiar laugh rang high and then she breathed out. His laugh was a form of remedy for her. Though he was so much like Peyton and Graham, he was far different from them. Jay was comfortable with his life. For Peyton, she was just managing.
Shaking her head, Peyton looked down at the papers sprawled on the table. The sound of a chair scratching caught her attention. When she lifted her gaze, she was irritated to see none other than Callum Reid sitting in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.
Peyton closed her eyes tight and sat properly in her chair. It was a talk Callum wanted, and Peyton had thoroughly avoided it since his return.
“Peyton,” Callum acknowledged in a dull tone.
“Callum,” she said, mimicking the lifeless pitch in his voice.
His lips pursed and he eyed her. Silence was exchanged between them, suffocating her. When it reached an unbearable quota, Peyton started to collect her work.
“Why does everyone in this town love you so much but hate me? I grew up here, too.”
His question startled her, causing Peyton to lift her head and glance at him. His eyes swept over the pub, filled with disbelief.
He really doesn’t get it.
“Because you left, Callum,” Peyton stated.
He slowly turned his head until his eyes met hers. Callum’s jaw locked as if he were attempting to control his emotions around her.
“So did everyone else,” he pointed out.
“Everyone had their reasons.”
Callum’s eyes flashed and he abruptly leant forward. “And I didn’t, Peyton?”
“Yes, you did. But you didn’t give me a reason. They all left because they gave a reason. They told the town. They let people know. But you? You just up and left, Callum. You didn’t tell me.”
Callum flinched like her words had hurt him, which Peyton found ridiculous. “I had my reasons, Peyton,” he said through clenched teeth. “But that doesn’t explain why these people I’ve grown up with can’t even look at me.”
This time, it was Peyton who flinched. Her eyes burned. He still didn’t get it.
“Because you didn’t come back!” she shouted, tears running down her cheeks. That façade she hid behind crumbled. She no longer used a fake smile. For Peyton, this was as raw and as naked as it got for her.
His eyes grew sadder, but she didn’t care. Around them, the voices had started to hush until the pub had silenced around them.
“Look around you, Peyton. Nobody else came back!” Callum raised his voice.
Her heart clenched at the truth he spoke.
“But they did,” she sobbed.
Callum shook his head. “No, they didn’t.”
“But they did when I needed them the most!” Peyton cried before she wiped the tears from her cheeks, hating the weakness she was showing.
“What?” he breathed.
“They all came back—every single one of them. The town hates you because you didn’t come back. Everyone came back, Callum. My parents’ funeral—they were all there…except for you!” Her lips trembled as the heat burned through her chest.
“Peyton,” he said almost apologetically.
“No! That one day. Their funeral. That was the day you could have redeemed yourself, Callum. I don’t care if you couldn’t love me. I needed you then. I lost them and you didn’t show. It was their funeral, Callum. They died. My parents, they loved you. Don’t you get that? They loved you! They wanted me to forgive you, but I couldn’t, and when they died, I knew that I could never forgive you. You didn’t have to be there for me. You could have been there to pay your respects or to say goodbye, but you didn’t. The moment that I buried them, I also buried any hope of you redeeming yourself.”
“I’m—”
Peyton shook her head. “Save it. If you had just come back, I would have forgiven you for breaking my heart. I don’t care if you couldn’t love me back. I just needed your support and for you to acknowledge their deaths. They all came back. The only person who didn’t show was you.” Peyton sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ear.
She had vowed that day never to let him back into her life. The last glint of hope had died with the very last breath her parents had breathed that day all those years ago.
“Get the fuck out of my pub, Reid.” Jay’s growl had Peyton lifting her eyes to meet his. The vein on his neck protruded as he balled his fist.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Callum said.
From the corner of her eye, Peyton could see him holding his hands up.
“Well, you chose the wrong town to return to…and the wrong pub. Get your sorry ass up and leave. If I see you ever make Peyton that upset again, I’ll have my fist to your jaw. Got it?” Jay took a step forward.
Peyton shot up from her chair and stepped between them. “Enough, Jay,” Peyton said, but he kept his eyes on Callum.
“You tell Graham that he’s back in town?”
“No,” she replied.
Jay’s eyes met hers. Disbelief took hold of his face. His eyes darkened and his face tensed. “Then you better tell him before he finds out from someone else, Peyton.”
“What are you, Jay, her protector?” Mr Preston asked and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.
Mr Preston was just like Jay—chocolate eyes and a strong jaw. She imagined he was what Jay would look like once he aged. The way his lips curved tightly indicated that he would calm down his son.
“I’m more than what that little fucker ever did. I’m her friend. He couldn’t even—”
“Jay, it’s not your place to have a say. This is between Peyton and Callum. For far too long, this town has had an opinion on what happened. We don’t get a say,” Mr Preston said before holding his hand out to Callum. “It’s good to have you home, Callum.”
Callum stepped around Peyton and shook hands with Jay’s father. “Thanks, Mr Preston.”
Jay snorted. “This ain’t your home, Reid. Hasn’t been for a long time.”
Peyton kept quiet, staring among the three of them. No one in the pub spoke. It seemed like they were all holding their breaths.
“He’s a boy from Daylesford. Just like you, Jay. He’s one of us.” Mr Preston’s fingers dug into Jay’s shoulder, but Jay didn’t flinch.
“Then he should have been there when she buried Cindy and Stuart,” Jay growled and shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder. He took a step and put his face as close to Callum’s as possible—to the point where their foreheads were almost touching. “You hurt her or even make her cry, you answer to me. Don’t think that I’m afraid to hurt a city boy like you. Don’t think for a minute that you’re one of us. You spoilt son of a bitch left behind something special. You weren’t there to see her cry. You weren’t there when she found out they’d died.”
Peyton winced. She had never seen Jay so forceful or terrifying. But she knew that he was protecting her. He had been there when she’d found out that her parents had died. They had been walking down Main Street when Sergeant Downs parked his police car next to them and told her the news. Hit and run. Her parents had died instantly an hour outside of the town’s limits.
“Stop it, Jay,” Peyton said sternly.
His eyes locked on hers and she shook her head at him—a warning to lay it to bed. It was the single worst moment in her life and he was digging it back up for the whole pub to hear. Peyton hadn’t just lost her parents. The town had lost their friends.
Peyton stepped towards her table and collected her work. She was stacking the files when she heard Jay say her name. That’s when she stuck her hand up at him to stop him from saying any more.
“You’ve said enough, Jay. I don’t need your protection or for you to make a statement on my behalf. Leave it. And you, Callum, are leaving with me before Jay does something that I’m going to hate him for.” Peyton reached over a
nd took Callum’s wrist in her hand.
He tensed under her touch, but she ignored him, dragging him away.
As she walked towards the pub doors, she heard Jay say, “Don’t you fall in love with him, Peyton. Don’t you do that to me.”
With a heavy sigh, Peyton placed her work papers on her desk and slipped out of her jacket, resting it on her the chair. She searched through the bundle of papers until she came across the Reynolds’ menu. Smoothing it out, she separated it from the other documents.
“I remember when this place used to be so…”
Callum’s voice stopped, and she turned around to see him looking around the office. It was far different than what he’d known when he was seventeen.
“Alive?” Peyton deadpanned.
She noticed his quick flinch at her words and smiled to herself.
“Not the word I was going for,” Callum said as he walked towards the bookcase.
“Well, things die. The heart of this place died along with my parents.” Her eyes followed his movements as he inspected the wall before facing her.
“It’s gone,” Callum breathed.
The way his mouth formed a frown had her feeling guilty.
Turning to her left, she looked out at the lake. Since his return, she’d spoken more about her parents than she had at any other time in the last four years. The burning sensation in her eyes had her trying to blink it away.
“I had to take it down. I couldn’t see their faces every day,” Peyton explained. When the burning left her, she faced him.
“I’m sorry,” he said softy.
Peyton tensed. “For what?”
“Everything. I was a kid, Peyton. I was seventeen. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew that I had to leave. I couldn’t stay.”
He couldn’t stay. Peyton let that simmer in her thoughts. Couldn’t and wouldn’t were two different words with two different meanings. Just like Callum. He used different words that didn’t match their actual meaning.
“How do you know Oscar?” Peyton asked, dodging the question of the past and reaching for the menu.
When he didn’t reply straight away, she glanced at him with a ‘go on’ expression on her face.
“He was one of the first people I met once I got to the city. We went to high school together and then uni… Where’s the staff…the guests? Where is everyone?”
Peyton placed the menu down and walked around her desk, sitting in the large leather chair. “The hotel’s under a blackout period. No guests or staff for two weeks until I figure out how I want to run and own it.”
“It’s funny,” Callum said before he reached the desk and leant forward until his face was close to hers. “This is the most we’ve spoken since I got back. You haven’t told me to fuck myself or get the fuck off your property.” He gave her a smirk but his eyes were laced with regret, almost like he was sad to see her.
Her eyes squinted. “Go fuck yourself, Callum, and get off my property,” she slowly drawled out.
“Like the time you told me that you didn’t want me to kiss you—nothing but a lie. I know you, Peyton. When you drag out your sentences like that, it’s a challenge. But that’s not what I want with you.” Callum pulled back and stood straight, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Before Peyton could even speak, he stopped her when he let out a deep sigh. Then he pulled his hand out of his pocket, combing his fingers through his hair.
“How long have you and Jay been together?”
She flinched in her seat. They had all grown up together. Jay and his friends were a few years older, but when Jay had graduated high school, he’d stayed behind. And when Callum had left, she and Jay had gotten closer, just like how she and Graham had.
“I’m not with Jay,” she bit back more defensively than she would have liked.
“Seems like he’s in love with you, Peyton.”
“Don’t you fall in love with him, Peyton. Don’t you do that to me.”
Jay’s words had been hard to ignore. The walk from the pub to the hotel had had her constantly replaying it. He had never said anything so deep before. He’d sounded desperate, and it left an ache in her chest. She loved Jay, but only in the most platonic of ways.
“He isn’t. Your friend’s wedding isn’t for another month,” Peyton said, reaching for the papers on her desk. She opened the right drawer of the desk and placed them inside. When she closed the drawer, she noticed Callum staring at her, as if he were trying to figure out the cogs of her mind.
“I’m here for you, Peyton. I came back for you.”
The way his voice softened had her heart beating faster. Words that would have been perfect…four years ago. So instead of letting him see the effect those two sentences had, she let out a short laugh. His jaw clenched as well as his fist.
“You loved me once, Peyton… You fell in love with me. Why don’t you believe me when I say I’m back here for you?”
The hurt in his grey eyes made it hard for her to breathe.
He never told me he loved me. He never said it back.
“So what, Callum? I’m just meant to fall in love with you? Is that it?”
Callum’s eyes glistened and he shook his head. “I wouldn’t let you, Peyton. It would be the last thing I’d let you do… I’m not that cruel.”
What?
The unsaid apology swept his eyes. His words made no sense to her. Callum looked to his left, not saying any more. His faraway stare was one she didn’t understand.
Just as she was about to ask him what he’d meant, Callum turned around and made his way to the door.
“Wait,” she said, getting up from the chair.
Callum stopped just steps away from the exit.
“What do you mean you wouldn’t let me?” she asked.
He didn’t face her. Peyton stared at his back, hoping he would look at her.
“I wouldn’t let you fall in love with me. That’s not why I’m here. I don’t ever want you falling in love with me, Peyton Spencer. I’ll make sure that you don’t. I’m just here for forgiveness for not being there for their funeral. I don’t want your love. I don’t need it. I just need to know that you forgive me and then I’m done. I’ll be satisfied with the choices I made.”
With that, Callum walked out the door, leaving her with tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Peyton. If you need anything, just give me a call.”
The voice sounded like Father Mitchell, but Peyton didn’t say anything. Instead, she kept staring at the plaques that marked her parents’ graves.
“They were good people,” another voice said.
“No daughter should be left alone in this world. It’s a shame.”
Tears fell down her cheeks as she read their names again and again. More voices of people giving her condolences surrounded her. Callum had left her, and now, both of her parents had, too. It became difficult to breathe as she remembered the last thing her parents had said before they’d driven to the city for a tourism convention. It was about getting over Callum. Her mother had told her to “forgive and forget,” and now, Peyton couldn’t. Not anymore. There wouldn’t be forgiving. He hadn’t shown. The one time she believed he’d come back, and he hadn’t.
She let out a sob. He hadn’t even said goodbye to her parents. She’d called his phone to tell him about the funeral, but he never called back. Her voice message hadn’t been much. She’d just told him that her parents’ funeral would be in Daylesford and that she’d like it if he could make it. Let the past be the past. But as she stood there on the soft ground, she knew she’d made a mistake by calling him. He didn’t care. She hated him more than she could have ever thought.
Ignoring the person offering their condolences, Peyton walked towards the exit, past the old graves, past the office and the sign that read ‘Daylesford Public cemetery.’ For a moment, she heard Graham call after her, but Peyton ran. She didn’t care that her lungs were burning. She kept running.
She didn’t stop when she reached the lake. Instead, she kept going down the lane of bare trees and the small hill that led to her street. When Peyton reached her house, she heaved, trying to regain air in her lungs. She paused for a moment as she stood in the middle of the street. On her left was her parents’ home, and on her right, Callum’s. His parents had shown, but he hadn’t.
She looked back and forth as tears continued to fall and memories flashed in her mind. The moments she’d run across the road and into his arms, her parents telling her to be home by ten. The moments she’d snuck out of her bedroom window to be with him. The moment they’d kissed under the cherry blossom tree.
Wiping her face, Peyton walked towards the backyard. She opened the gate and kept walking until she was staring at the cherry blossom tree. She had so many memories of this one tree. Callum had once breathed, “Be with me, Peyton,” in her ear as they’d sat underneath it.
She shook her head to rid herself of the memories and took one more glimpse at the tree before she headed over to the shed. Peyton paused before she opened the door and was greeted with dust. The light illuminated at the flicker of the switch and she looked around until her eyes found the axe. She picked it up and felt its weight. Turning around, she gazed over at the house, realising that she was now alone in this world.
With each step Peyton took, leaving the shed behind, another tear ran down her face. She stood two steps away from the tree and held the axe tight in her hands, ready to chop it down. After she’d picked a spot where she’d let the axe blade enter the bark, she took a deep breath, held the axe so tight that her knuckles turned white, and drew it back before swinging the blade into the tree.
Cherry blossoms fell from the tree as she removed the blade and readied it for another swing.
“Peyton, stop!” Graham cried as he ran to her. When he reached her, he tried to take the axe from her.
“No! Stop it, Graham! Just stop.” Peyton fought back, but it was no use.
He removed the axe from her hands and threw it away from her.
Before Peyton could yell at him, Graham wrapped his arms around her and held her. Sobs escaped her as she realised what she’d been about to do. As a way to get rid of the memories of Callum, she had almost destroyed her mother’s favourite tree. The tree that had convinced her father to buy the house they’d lived in.
